


Hellcats Vignettes: Visitor

by Nonsensewords85



Series: Hellcats Vignettes [1]
Category: Hellcats
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual Sex, Embarrassment, Fluff and Angst, Humiliation kink, Multi, Self-Hatred, Situational Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, but it ends well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonsensewords85/pseuds/Nonsensewords85
Summary: A visitor joins Lewis and Alice for the night.





	Hellcats Vignettes: Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of a series of vignettes I felt compelled to cobble together after recently watching Hellcats for the first time. They all take place after the series ends and follow the various characters through their lives. Each is a short snapshot of a moment in time for the participants and they all happen in the same 'universe', so if I keep going and you read them all, you'll have a picture of what I've decided happens in these characters lives. 
> 
> These are just something I whipped up in my spare time so are lightly edited and pretty brief. Hope you enjoy.

She’s lost track of how often she’s found herself in this position. On her back, legs thrust apart by the man between them, head thrown to the side, her ear being nibbled and whispered into by a soft mocking voice. She wants to complain and to tell the bitch to stop whispering that awful nickname but the constant rhythmic thrusting robs her of the ability speak. Just like every time before all she can do is pant for more air, and try to stifle the moans that betray her enjoyment. 

It doesn’t work. It never does. Lewis is too good. Knows her body too well. Whenever she gets used to the pleasure and gains enough clarity to form the words she needs to say to stop the stream of invectives coming at her, he knows and adapts. He pushes deeper, thrusts faster inside, his tongue massages her neck or his thick hands knead her ass. But he never touches her clit. He wouldn’t dare. They both know that belongs to Alice. Her dark finger flicks across it in a steady possessive rhythm. 

It feels good, too good. It’s why she can never stay away. No matter how many times she decides that it’s the last she never holds firm. She inevitably finds herself in their bed, body soaked in sweat and the two lovers watching her every reaction. They’ll force moans from her, elicit grunts and groans she never thought she’d make off the mat, they’ll tweak her higher and higher denying any sort of release. Time loses meaning when she’s with them. Lewis strokes in and out until her world is just him above her thrusting away in her, her walls clenching around his thickness. Alice forces her to remember that she’s there with them always with a jolt of pain. Sometimes it’s physical, a pinch to her clit, teeth closing around her earlobe, a nipple being tweaked just a little too hard. Sometimes it’s verbal, the way it is tonight, the hated nickname or a few choice tidbits about how far she’s fallen. The good little Christian girl taking it from a man in a relationship with another woman, out of wedlock, while a dirty filthy homosexual rubs her clit until she’s begging to come. Which isn’t true. She knows that. Alice is bi. So is she, though she’s never said it aloud. And she doesn’t feel that way. But Alice knows all that. And after they’re done with her, Alice will take Lewis in her mouth and clean him while she watches, whimpering at the sight of their two beautiful bodies mingling. Wanting both of them again. Like the awful words Alice whispers to her, so that only she can hear, it’s one of the little mind games the dark skinned cheerleader likes to play. 

The words embarrass and frustrate her. Not for the reason she knows Lewis believes, that they reflect a deep fear, but because they don’t. Alice’s sex, and her desperate attraction to the head cheerleader’s body, isn’t what makes this wrong. It’s that she can never protest, never assert herself enough to correct the horrible assertions that come from the other girl or tell her to stop mocking her. She can never form the thoughts to contradict Alice. She has a safe word, something she can use to pause them long enough to say her piece, but as Alice knows she’ll never bring herself to use it. She’s a slave to the sensations they cause within her. A prisoner of her own lusts. Alice knows that even though Lewis doesn’t. That’s the whole point. Alice is reminding her who is in control. Always. And it’s not her. A fact she’s reminded of when Lewis’s next hard thrust drives away the rebuke she’d finally prepared. 

Her eyes meet Alice’s and the sense of superiority is palpable. With the name still floating in the air between them, and only them as she doubt Lewis heard over the wet slapping sounds emanating from their joined cores or his increasingly desperate grunts as he inches closer and closer to his own pleasure, she can’t take it any more. 

She can’t take the feelings that are surging forth. Her own failings flit through her mind. Her expulsion from Memphis Christian for her failure to keep her legs closed to the man even now between them. How her friends and teammates wouldn’t meet her eyes when she was forced to clean out her dorm room and locker. The whispered taunts behind her back. The calculating smirk in the athletic chair’s eyes when she’d had to practically beg to attend Lancer and remind him that he could use her to strengthen the cheer team. The glee in his eyes when he’d informed her she’d have to try out like everyone else. The pity in Savanna’s eyes when she’d had to try out for the Hellcats, for the scholarship she’d need to attend Lancer because her parents had disowned her. The way Lewis had glared when she first came to Cheertown, still rightly angry of her behavior at nationals. The smug smirk that Alice had at seeing her so cowed as to beg to join them. The way she’d had to room with one of the new male underclassmen because no one else in Cheertown would have her. The first time Alice had left the door unlocked for her and she’d entered just to pretend for a few minutes. Her eyes drift down, her head hangs. Soon Lewis will drive her over the edge and all of the thoughts that Alice has brought up will be washed away. She just needs to hold on. To focus on the pleasure they’re bringing her long enough to escape the shame that was shaken loose at Alice’s insistent invocation of that name. Of that brand. The one which might as well been seared into her flesh as a constant reminder she wasn’t good enough for the first girl she’d ever… 

Another thrust from Lewis and she was spared the rest of the memory. She was close, so close. But so was Lewis. She normally went before him, if only by a few thrusts, and then he’d keep going till he finished inside her. But this time it appeared they were neck and neck. The thoughts plaguing her had dampened her enjoyment for just long enough to allow Lewis to draw even with her. Another sharp thrust and all she could think about was him, about how he would fill her and she’d be free in bliss for at least a few minutes. 

But the next thrust never came. Instead of the promised bliss, she felt wet splashes striking her thighs, heard Lewis’s satisfied grunts. Alice. Even before she opened her eyes she knew it had to be Alice. One last show of dominance, a reminder of how utterly worthless she was. She hadn’t been good enough for Savannah or for Lewis. At least not as anything more than someone to occasionally warm his bed. Alice would never let her forget. Made sure to remind her each time she lay under Lewis. Just how changed every time. Alice was nothing if not inventive. This time the reminder was a firm hand wrapped around Lewis’s manhood, applying enough pressure to satisfy him before he’d re-entered her. It was an effective reminder of her place. Not only had she been denied her momentary respite in bliss, she’d been denied the chance to prove she had the power to please him, the man she’d desired enough to throw away everything for, with her body. His seed pooling inside her while she rested from the last vestiges of the pleasure he’d caused her was the closest she’d come to being his. Her own foolishness had seen to that.

As Lewis’s comforting weight left her, and the only part of him still touching her was his wet, sticky seed, she knew all she could do was lay there until enough of the sensations filling her died down that she could regain control of her body. Then she could leave and try and forget this latest humiliation. At least until she found herself back again, walking into their room with downcast eyes and needs that she would do anything to sate. She’d suffer any indignity, which Alice had proved more than once. Even this one. The worst one. Knowing that a fully satiated Lewis was watching her, her body still inflamed by the passion he’d stroked within her, her breathing erratic and her mind too flustered to push back against Alice’s endless teasing, while the remnants of his enjoyment dried on her thighs, proof that his pleasure had been brought about by his girlfriend doing with just her hand what the harlot who shared their bed couldn’t do with her whole body, was the worst humiliation she’d suffered. Made worse only when she felt Alice’s strong fingers, still wet with the juices from her clit and the stray bits of Lewis’s seed that had spilled onto them, pull her head up so she had no choice but to face the head cheerleader. 

“Look at me, Nasty Kathy,” and while the words are like a sharp spike through her soul she looks anyway. Into the piercing eyes that will reject her, remind her how worthless she is. Perhaps this will finally be the last time. Not because she has the strength to resist returning, but because Alice has made whatever point she was making, had finished having her fun and would throw her out naked and unsatisfied with an order not to return. Even then she knew she’d be back only to see that the door was barred to her and to leave in shame knowing she wasn’t even good enough to use. 

Only when their eyes meet that’s not what she sees. Alice’s lips press against hers, firm and insistent but not rushing. Whether it’s from shock or pleasure her mind shuts down again and she gives in to Alice the way she does Lewis. When the lips leave hers she doesn’t want them to. She tries to chase them, to keep the pleasure going and her demons at bay for a few seconds more but there’s nothing there. They’re by her ear again, and she tenses, almost flinching as she is ready for the brand to sear into her again, Alice obviously having found a way to be even more cruel. But it’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. 

“I’m sorry,” the last words she expected from Alice. “You’re so beautiful when you’re on the edge, I just couldn’t resist watching you a little longer.”

Two fingers take the place inside her where Lewis had been. They’re slightly clumsy but her body doesn’t care. Pleasure races through her, the sensations lighting up every nerve ending as if it’s on fire. Lips meet hers again and she no longer has the capacity to wonder why.

Alice’s skin presses into her, covering her the way Lewis’s did only minutes before. She can feel the lightly enveloping warmth of stray rays of sunshine on a cloudy day as their bodies touch, the small pinpoints of pure dry heat where Alice’s nipples push into her bare skin and the churning humidity emanating from Alice’s core pressed against her leg.

When the lips leave hers again they press against her neck, freeing a whimper from between her lips. Her pulse point throbs between the lips now trapping it. Her entire body throbs in the same rhythm as the fingers insider her curl again. She has no words. Not even when the lips move to her ear.

“I’m selfish. You’re so beautiful, you make me so hot and I just can’t let it end for tonight. I thought I could and just wait till you knocked on the door again. But I can’t. I don’t want to.”

She can’t be hearing right. The pleasure must be so intense that she simply is missing the underlying sarcasm. But in Alice’s eyes, there is an undercurrent of need and desperation that almost resembles the fear she knows is in her own. She wants that to stop. Needs that to stop. So she tries to move, to bring her lips to Alice’s. But she can’t. She has no more power with Alice inside her than she did Lewis. 

“So what I’m asking is that can you take it a little longer? Can you put up with it just a little longer tonight? Let me enjoy you just a little more, my beautiful Nasty Kathy?”

The last words are like a blast of cold water, shocking her from the pleasant heat Alice has created around and in her. Her head snaps back, eyes searching Alice’s and she knows that the pain she’s feeling must be apparent. There’s no helping it. For a second she’d been lost in the moment, had dared to enjoy in the belief that she was good enough. But now she was going to see the same thing in Alice’s eyes she had the first time she’d heard the name leave Savannah’s mouth. The confirmation that she wasn’t good enough. For any of them. Not Savannah, not Lewis, not Alice. That she was just a place holder till something better came along. She wanted to duck her head in shame again, to avoid the painful reminder that she was so broken as to only want what she couldn’t, shouldn’t, have.

Alice wouldn’t let her look away. Once their gazes locked, Alice’s other hand returned to her face from its journey to her breasts, holding her in place. Unable to look away she was forced to see exactly what was in Alice’s eyes. Which shouldn’t have been there. A flash of the fear and rejection slowly working its way within her was echoed in Alice’s eyes. A hesitancy so unlike the brash girl that she couldn’t help but accept it. Fingers still moving insider her, she could feel the cold dissipating in the glow of those eyes. A glow that dimmed as she remained silent. She had to speak, to reassure that this is what she wanted. That she could hold off forever regardless of the pain spiking up her nerve endings if it meant she could feel that gaze upon her even a little longer. But she couldn’t form words, not with those fingers moving inside her. Not with those lips inches from her own. There’s only one word she can think to form and so she lets it slide from her lips, “Alice”. Just a name, but it’s enough. Lips collide and the rhythm of the fingers alters, insistent but somewhat erratic, enough to make her whine with pure desire but never predictable enough to let her reach fulfillment. 

She loses track of time while the fingers move inside her and Alice’s voice whispers to her. Telling her how beautiful she is, how excitement tears through the head cheerleader every time there’s a knock on the door in the hopes it’s her coming to join them again, how fantastic she looks wrapped around Lewis- the contrast of their skins always making the woman thrusting inside her groan with pleasure. Admitting to her the blessing it was that her old school was run by idiots who failed to realize how amazing she was and so she came to them, to Lancer and the Hellcats, and eventually to their room. 

And it hurts, in a way she can’t explain and never wants to stop. She’s becoming sore, her body worn raw from the thrusting of her partners’ appendages throughout the night and her heart aching from feelings coursing through her at each whispered admission of desire, pride and acceptance. When Alice tells her how every practice the stares she felt on her where need, a desire to see her splayed before them again and to claim her before the other Hellcats so no one could doubt to whom she belonged, something swells within her. She can’t explain it, but the knowledge that the cold gaze she’d thought to be judging her the harlot she knew herself to be was simply the bitter restraint of a gaze not being allowed to demonstrate its full affection in front of others, a stare she knew too well from many years of looking at Savannah that way, eases something inside of her. And she can’t resist any longer. 

She’s quivering and quaking all over Alice before she even realizes it. She’s nothing but a mess, bonelessly collapsing against the dark skinned girl. She needs to apologize for not holding out longer but she never gets the chance. A kiss steals her breath and a whisper of “magnificent” tells her there’s no need. She feels amazing but can’t move. Though she has to. She has to show Alice how she feels. A thank you for the bliss and the peace and all the wonderful words that washed over her, cleaning away the emotional detritus that had accumulated on her soul. But she can’t form the words and her attempts to move to return the favor are met only with an insistent shushing and a firm hug, holding her in place while Lewis climbs back into the bed with them.

Alice’s mouth moves to her ear again while Lewis fumbles with the light. 

“Sleep. You can in the morning if you want.” 

And so she does.


End file.
